TRP: Aleksei, Hansel, and Mishka (The Most Amazing Idea)
An inn outside of Alabaster. Mishka settled down and tried to sleep and fucking failed. He kept thinking about Hansel’s voice breaking when he said Get out, the way he tried to look angry and just looked fucking broken instead. It reminded Mishka of the look Hansel gave him three and a half years ago, when Mishka said You might be useful, and offered to let Hansel tag along with him. They never fully healed from the first betrayal, did they? All of that had just been borrowed fucking time. And Mishka knew that, and he’d fucking let himself enjoy it anyway, let himself sink into like a warm bath and relax. He kept thinking about the way Hansel talked about second chances. The way he said As many as you need. And Mishka said he didn’t need anymore. What fucking liars they both were. Eventually he gave up on sleeping and stumbled out of the tree. This was fucking bullshit. He couldn’t sleep like this. He wasn’t going to be able to rest properly until he felt safe, and he wasn’t going to feel safe sitting up in a tree in the middle of the woods with men looking for him. He hopped down from the tree. Whoever did this wasn’t going to just sit aside and let Mishka figure it out. They’d attack him in the middle of the night, or they’d interfere with the investigation in the morning. Or they’d take his family hostage and use them against him, if they couldn’t find him. Mishka needed to be prepared. . Okay. Plans. As far as everyone knew, he was devastated. Lying helpless in that tree. And it was true, he was devastated, but nobody cornered Mikhail-fucking-Haeth. He needed to head back to the inn and grab his stuff. His mask, his gold, his bag of scrolls, his scrying eye, his cloak, his flametongue rapier, his shoes, and his emerald chalk. (And maybe while he was at the inn, he’d see Hansel—briefly. Just a brief look at his sleeping face, and then Mishka would be gone. He was there to get his things and nothing else.) Mishka padded through the forest, trying to stay as stealthy as possible. Eventually he broke out into the orchard, where the trees were father apart, and then he slipped from shadow to shadow, hiding himself behind the trunks. IZZY Hansel had been drinking for a while. Mostly with Larkin, a little less so with Goro. Some other time, he'd be fuckin' impressed with how well Larkin could keep up with him, drink for drink, and he'd maybe make excuses about how he hadn't eaten and he was already fucked up, and that made him get drunker quicker. He wasn't in any position to defend himself, though. He ended up laying on the floor for a while, which was always a sign he was too drunk, but he ignored that sign. After a while, he got this idea in his head, and he couldn't shake it out. Goro was tired and needed to sleep, get his magic and shit, and Larkin needed to drink some fuckin' water or something, but Hansel didn't have it in him to try to take care of her. He dragged himself up and mumbled about being back in a bit, and they probably figured he was just gonna get some water or go take a leak or throw up, all of which might happen, but none of which were his intention. He went a few doors down the hallway instead, and he stood in the threshold of the room he'd thrown Mishka out of. Of course getting drunk didn't make anything clearer, didn't make anything better. Made it not hurt so much, though. Hansel kept thinking: if Mishka had killed Jonn, the Diva thing never would've happened, would it? He didn't fucking like to think it, because it wasn't like he fucking wanted his kid to be dead, but god -- Jonn caused so much goddamn trouble, always had. Was it worth him being alive and Hansel getting to be with Mishka for a while longer, everyone in Skyport suffering through Diva? Wasn't he being fucking selfish? Maybe he was just the bad guy. No matter what. Even if Mishka had fucked with his memories, which -- which he shouldn't've fucking done, yeah, but -- maybe Hansel never should've gotten angry at him in the first place. Made him go back and fix things. Maybe Hansel should've just ... just seen it as an opportunity to keep Jonn from hurting anyone else, and ... . Thing was, he couldn't buy into that. Couldn't do it. 'Cause even now, even remembering what he remembered, he was fucking worried about Mishka out there. Could never make the hard decisions when it came to people he loved. He was fucking selfish like that, yeah. So he put the room to rights, a bit, because that felt better somehow -- wavering around it, fumbling. When he'd been pissed, before, he'd thought, I should burn Mishka's things. Burn his mask. Burn his scrolls. Burn the fucking scarf I knit for him. It'd serve him fucking right for burning me. But now he tried to pack them all up, thinking he'd -- he'd save them. He'd want them. He slipped his hand into his pocket and clenched it around the ring, missing the weight of it on his finger. He just couldn't fucking do it. He was weak. Still unsteady on his feet, he pulled on his coat, and the bag, but the bag was a fucking -- mess, he hadn't done any of it right, things were spilling out, and it was all too overwhelming so he just grabbed one thing and stumbled out, too single-minded to stop and talk to Goro and Larkin. He didn't think to do that 'til he was already in the orchard, and then turning back seemed too complicated -- he was a ship trapped moving with the wind, and the wind said, Find Mishka. If Mishka was still himself -- if Hansel had ever known him -- he'd find somewhere to hide. Somewhere high up, maybe, with a good view, or if that wasn't available, he'd go underground where no one could find him -- either the crow's nest or the belly of a ship, surrounded by stacked crates. A little hideaway. It was an orchard, though. A forest. Plenty of high-up spots. Hansel looked through the treetops as he tripped along, wanting to call out, but not finding the voice to. He stopped, finally, his head spinning. It was dark and chilly and coming out here alone had been a fucking mistake, this plastered -- the cold was sobering him up a little bit, maybe, but mostly just making him miserable. . He reached out to prop a hand against the closest tree to stabilize himself, and hung his head, closing his eyes for a moment and focusing on breathing, on not vomiting. Should’ve gotten that water. Should’ve asked Goro to come with him. Nah, Goro needed to sleep. Shouldn’t’ve come out here at fucking all. When he opened his eyes, he saw the three tell-tale scars in the dirt from when he’d jammed his trident down beside himself earlier, to sit and read. To hold his husband and murmur and reassure him. And then he couldn’t hold it in anymore, and -- knowing it wouldn’t do any fucking good, just -- just having to -- he weakly called, “Mishka?” COYOTE When Mishka heard Hansel’s voice, faintly, he froze. Backtracked, and looked a little harder through the trees. Hansel stood against a tree. It was— hard to make out exactly what he was doing. Resting, almost. Was he hurt? He should go. He should fucking run. Hansel was always armed. Instead, unable to tear himself away, Mishka stood there, stupidly. IZZY Yeah, there was ... there was nothing. No response. Why the fuck would there be? Hansel had told him to fuck off. Made it decently fucking clear that if he showed his face again, it'd be the end of him. And for some reason Hansel just kept feeling like he'd fucked up. He slumped to lean against the tree more heavily, dropping his shoulder into it. He was tired, and he'd drunk himself sick, and he knew he shouldn't be alone right now, but here he fucking was, anyway. Wasn't like he fucking wanted to be alone. Against all good fucking sense, he wanted Mishka. He dug into his pocket again and squeezed the ring until it hurt his palm. COYOTE Mishka moved farther back. Gave himself a good twenty feet in case he needed to run. Then, very softly, he called, “Hansel.” IZZY Hansel jolted, his head snapping up, the motion making his head whirl again. He swallowed. The world wavered. "Mishka," he said again, his voice coming out low and thick. "I ..." Don't understand. Don't know what to do. Sorry. Won't hurt you. Don't fucking come near me. Don't touch me. Please help me. COYOTE Mishka folded his arms and said nothing. Waited to see if Hansel was gonna skewer him. IZZY Mistake. This was a fucking mistake. Everything Hansel did was a fucking mistake. It'd be easier, he thought, if you just killed me, and stared blankly across the orchard at his husband. COYOTE Mishka crept forward. Fucking dying to go touch him, help him up. Maybe Hansel had calmed down, and Goro or Roddy has explained Mishka was probably innocent, or Hansel had gotten his head fixed, already— “Let me help you back to the inn,” Mishka said, and reached for him, even though his instincts were screaming not to, screaming back away. IZZY "Don't fuckin' ..." Hansel shrugged and waved a hand, still pretty fuckin' weakly. "Not goin' back t'the fuckin' inn. Yet. Just now. I ... wanted to ..." Mishka was so much closer, and that made it so much harder. He rubbed the same hand over his face. "Just. Make sure you're all right," he muttered. Fuckin' idiot. COYOTE Mishka dropped his hand. “Well, naturally.” Very quietly, he said, “I’m sorry.” IZZY "You're not," he mumbled, no acid in it. "You fuckin' wouldn't ... keep doin' shit to me if you were goddamn sorry for it." COYOTE “Ish, what exactly do you think I did to you?” IZZY "You fuckin' --." It was like Mishka wanted him to fucking say it. Like -- either he didn't know, he really didn't fucking know, or else he wanted Hansel to have to say it. Wanted to hear exactly how fucking much he'd hurt Hansel, what a good fucking job he'd done this time. When he'd abandoned the crew, Hansel hadn't given him anything. He'd stayed stony-faced 'til he'd met back up with Eli. Maybe Mishka just wanted the fucking satisfaction. So Hansel gave it to him. "You fucked with my head." His voice broke. "I don't know how you could -- could fucking do that, when --." Valkur, he still didn't want to fucking bring up Aleksei, remind Mishka of the horrible fucking thing that'd been done to him. Even now. Idiot. "Fucked with my memory, and you ... fuckin' covered shit up 'cause -- I don't -- 'cause y'knew I couldn't forgive you for killing my kid, so you lied an' said you wouldn't've, and --." His voice broke further. He knew he'd made a truth potion. He knew it. It was too fucking confusing, too ... messy. Like Goro had said. Too many strands. But the betrayal felt so fucking raw and real, and it was too painful to think through. (Again. It'd happened again.) "And you let me -- fucking -- look after you and fight for you, with Diva, and -- fucking propose to you, and fucking let you sleep in my bed, and --." He was losing the thread of what he was saying, sliding down the tree trunk until he was on his knees in the roots, finally really too weary to cry anymore, but the closest thing to it. "And I just fucking love you, and I don't ... I don't understand. I don't understand." COYOTE Every word Hansel spoke, the pit in Mishka’s stomach got bigger. You knew I wouldn’t forgive you for killing my kid, so you lied and said you wouldn’t have. The implanted memory was so fucking specific. Mishka mentally crossed out some possibilities. He’d thought before that maybe several months ago, someone had impersonated him, done something terrible to Hansel, and then covered it up. But… he’d definitely been there for this. So that wasn’t it. He’d thought that maybe someone was impersonating Hansel. Maybe this was a shapeshifter or a doppelganger. But no. Nobody could fake this. And Mishka wasn’t fucking crazy, and he hadn’t done this and forgotten about it. So. Either a total stranger had impersonated a cleric and implanted this memory in Hansel’s head… Or Goro had. Two possibilities left. Mishka chewed the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. He remembered the way Goro said, If you're telling the truth, I'm sorry this is happening. So fucking sorry. I'll try to make it right. The way Goro offered to give him a healing potion and gave him the Hand of Glory. The way Goro kept trying to protect Hansel from him. The tight, angry line of Goro’s back and the way he glared at Mishka, like he was terrified he'd started to let his guard down and someone had finally taken advantage of it, just like he'd always suspected. Everything in Mishka’s gut said Goro wasn’t it, but that didn’t make sense. It had to be—and it couldn’t. “Ish,” Mishka whispered. “Ish, please let me help you. Please, please." IZZY Hansel knew he should say, No. Stop fucking helping me. Or, That wasn't fucking helping, what you did. And, Don't call me ish. Don't. You're not allowed. You gave it up. You never should've fucking had it. But he didn't say any of that, because he felt too heavy, too weak, and instead he just stared off vacantly, and nodded. He shifted to drop down further, his hands limp and empty on the ground beside him, because for once, Hansel wasn't even armed. He didn't want to be. "Okay," he said quietly. "Okay. Just ... just make it fucking go away. Make it so I never found out. Don't wanna know. Make it how it was before." COYOTE Mishka delicately padded over, weaving around fallen branches with his tender feet. IZZY Hansel offered his hands out to be held. COYOTE Mishka took his hands. Hansel's eyes were bleary and unfocused, like he'd been crying, and he looked so fucking empty, like a hollowed-out mannequin in the shape of his husband. Mishka didn't help him up, but rather knelt in the grass between his arms. IZZY Hansel looked at Mishka for a moment, trying one more time to make anything make any sense, then closed his eyes and lowered his head and just waited, curling his fingers around Mishka's loosely. He'd have his strength back later. He'd be himself once it was done. COYOTE "I didn't tamper with your memories, motek," Mishka said, smoothing the hair out of his face. He wish he had a damp cloth to wash the dirt and sweat off of him. "The cleric put something in your head. That didn't happen." He kept his voice very soft, and reasonable, but it broke halfway through, because, fuck. He knew exactly how this would look from the outside. IZZY Hansel nodded. He didn't feel any magic, but -- maybe he could just tell himself that he did. "Okay." COYOTE Hansel took that weirdly well. Hm. "Love, no. I really mean that. I'm not going to cast any magic on you, alright?" IZZY His brow knit, and he opened his eyes. "D'you want me to beg?" Some part of him wanted to demand it, but it came out too quiet, too fucking pathetic. "You want me to fuckin' apologize and grovel at your feet?" COYOTE Mishka's throat locked up. He wanted to argue, to force Hansel to understand-- I didn't fucking do this to you-- but he couldn't make himself do it. It was almost kinder to let him live in this delusion until morning. Hansel wouldn't believe him until he'd rested, and until his memory was fixed. He was drunk. And broken. "Okay," Mishka whispered. "But I'm out of magic, my love. We need to fix you in the morning." He kept stroking Hansel's face. IZZY "Lying," Hansel mumbled. He leaned into Mishka's hand anyway, letting his eyes close. Mishka just wanted him to suffer longer. He wanted to go back to the inn. He wanted to forget he'd come out here, forget he was this fucking pathetic. He wanted to be able to Send for Goro so Goro could come fucking save him from himself, but he couldn't. COYOTE Hansel leaned into his touch. Mishka shut his eyes, feeling them sting and water. He wanted to just curl up in Hansel's lap. He was so fucking tired. So he did. He sat down and tried to push his way into Hansel's lap. IZZY Hansel let him, wrapping around him and pulling him in instinctively, not even having to open his eyes to do it. He wrapped his coat around Mishka, and blurrily remembered he'd come out here for a reason -- he'd been worried Mishka wouldn't be safe. Someone dangerous'd find him. Maybe Alabaster guards, maybe -- maybe Goro, later. He shifted around just enough to work a hand into his coat pocket, and pull out the mask, and clumsily try to pass it to Mishka. COYOTE Mishka felt something press into his hands, under the coat. Felt like the soft edges of the mask. Mishka jumped, a little. He pulled it out to look at it. He had his mask back now. Oh, thank god. He put it on-- for safe-keeping-- but just made himself look like himself. That was the mask was hidden and no one would no he had it. "Thank you," Mishka murmured, and bent to cup his face and kiss his cheek. IZZY "I tried to ... bring everything. Couldn't pack it. 'M too drunk." He sniffed. "Worried about you. Out here. S'cold." COYOTE "That's okay. We can get the rest of it in the morning." Mishka settled against Hansel's chest and let his eyes drift shut. It was fucking cold this far north, and his hands and feet felt numb. He buried them in Hansel's shirt, pressing his cold hands against Hansel's over-heated skin. He was going to fucking kill whoever did this to Hansel. IZZY Hansel held him closer, trying vaguely to arrange him in such a way that he'd get warmer. Should've brought warmer clothes for him. Wasn't thinking. He realized he needed to go back to the inn, or Goro would worry -- even if he'd drunk enough to knock out without noticing Hansel was still gone, he'd be freaked out in the morning. Hansel couldn't take Mishka back to the inn, though, not with Goro and Larkin knowing what had happened. They'd have to ... to plan for ... something. Some way to clear Mishka's name. He couldn't work it out right now. He couldn't work anything out. He just wanted to stop feeling this way. It kept making him think about when he'd found out about Yehuda -- about what'd happened to him -- and how he'd just wanted to not know anymore. And Mishka had held him, gently and persistently gotten him inside, in bed, bandaged up. Soothed him to sleep and gone to get the Lady when he took a turn for the worse. Talked him through the bloody revenge they'd get. It just didn't make sense. It didn't make any fucking sense for Mishka to treat him so sweetly, so carefully, to pay so much attention and read him so well, just to use it to fucking hurt him and comfort him at the same time. He edged to lean heavily against the tree, again, so he didn't have to support his own weight, only Mishka's, then shifted a little more so he could hide his face in Mishka's chest. He kept feeling this twinge in his chest, this knowledge that he was an idiot and he made bad fucking choices, and he should just fucking go back, and he should hide against Goro instead. He was only doing this because he was fucking greedy. Because he wanted them both. And he deserved all of this for thinking, for a little while, that maybe he could have them both -- that he'd done anything to earn that much happiness. COYOTE Mishka shifted so Hansel could settle more comfortably against him. So Hansel could hide his face a little more easily. "I know you don't believe me," Mishka whispered. "But I have a plan. In the morning, I'm going to take you to Goro, and he's going to cast a spell on you and make sure your mind is clear. And if Goro's spell... doesn't work, we'll have Luci try it next and see what happens. And then we'll be okay, my love, and we'll know exactly who's safe and who isn't. See?" IZZY He nodded mutely. COYOTE Aleksei was bored. He went home and slept a while, and when he was done, he came back to see what happened. He watched as people came and went, mildly amused, and he briefly touched their minds to read their thoughts. He had no fucking idea what was going on, but it seemed Mishka was helpless and out of magic, and the fucking adver was devasted and drunk, and Mishka had been thrown out into the woods. Beautiful, Aleksei thought. Stunning. Glorious. He had no idea the impact this change would make. He liked where this was going. Eventually, he’d reveal himself, and he’d be Mishka’s knight in shining armor, and everything would be perfect. He hung around in the orchard a while, sitting invisibly in a tree. And then Hansel and Mishka came to sit people him, and Aleksei listened, idly picking leaves off a stem and letting them fall. Then instead of fighting, Hansel and Mishka started cuddling. Aleksei frowned at that. It— Bothered him. A lot, actually. A whole fucking lot. Here was this fucking orc, this disgusting adver, who fucking dared to hold onto his goldfinch. Mishka was his. Aleksei earned him. Didn’t he do everything right? Didn’t he rescue Mishka from a terrible home life? Didn’t he nurse Mishka back to health and pet and stroke him? Maybe he could goad Mishka into killing Hansel somehow, or goad Hansel into attacking Mishka… except, nah. That wouldn’t work here. Aleksei very gently read Mishka's mind. . Mishka was thinking about the half-elf. Aleksei leaned forward, listening. Mishka was thinking… the half-elf didn’t trust him. Mishka was thinking, Please, god, don’t let it be Goro. Mishka was thinking, Goro wouldn’t fucking do that. Mishka was thinking, Unless he had a motive. Unless he had a reason. He could do it. He’s so fucking smart. I let him get close to me. I let him in my bed. Mishka started talking quietly. He said, “I know you don't believe me, but I have a plan. In the morning, I'm going to take you to Goro, and he's going to cast a spell on you and make sure your mind is clear. And if Goro's spell... doesn't work, we'll have Luci try it next and see what happens. And then we'll be okay, my love, and we'll know exactly who's safe and who isn't. See?” Aleksei frowned. Well, fuck. That would actually solve the problem for Mishka. Mishka would be proven innocent and Goro would prove himself loyal. And then, once given time, they’d probably figure it out it was Aleksei. Aleksei glanced down at them, then glanced back at the inn. They were a fair distance away. Far enough no one would hear any screaming. So Aleksei slid out of the tree and landed neatly on the grass, still invisible. IZZY Hansel heard a sound, like -- boots hitting the dirt. He twitched, even groggy from booze and exhaustion, and dug his fingers into Mishka to hold onto him, blinking around disoriented. He couldn't really tell where it'd come from, and he didn't see anyone. Maybe he'd imagined it. He looked to Mishka for a reaction. COYOTE Aleksei flicked his wrist and summoned a mage hand. Mishka sat partway inside Hansel’s coat, but his weapons and belt were still visible. With a flick, Aleksei undid the belt. Mishka was too shocked to move. Aleksei had the mage hand toss the weapons to him. A jeweled rapier and a fancy dagger. Pretty. He buckled them around his own waist. Then Aleksei dismissed the invisibility spell. He arranged himself comfortably on a fallen log. “Hello, adver,” he said to Hansel. Mishka went tense, all the color draining from his face, shrinking back into Hansel's lap. IZZY Hansel stared at him, trying to catch up to what'd just ... happened. He blinked. It was fuzzy, but he was fairly sure this was the cleric. The elf cleric who had ... fixed him, maybe, or done something else to him if Goro was right. Botched it somehow. He wouldn't've even reacted to the adver thing -- this was a fucking Alabaster elf, if anyone was going to fuckin' call him a dog, or for that matter move weapons away from him -- yeah, naturally. But it was so fucking different from how he'd spoken before. All ... wandering benevolent cleric-like. And Mishka wasn't acting like he was on edge because he'd been unarmed, and maybe really was out of magic. Nah, he'd put up a front, then. Bluff. If -- he was who Hansel thought he was, then he'd recognize that Hansel was too fucked up and he'd put himself between Hansel and the danger, not hide against him. But he was fucking scared. Something was fucking wrong, here, and Hansel couldn't put his finger on it -- too drunk, too tired, too -- himself. But he shoved himself up from the slouch he'd fallen into, not to his feet yet, just straightening his back, and curled around Mishka more protectively, lacing fingers through his hair and around his waist. He didn't have his trident, or his blackberry sprig, or even his axes or a dagger. There was some magic he could cast with the sprig, but he couldn't shapeshift any more until he rested. He couldn't be fucking intimidating, right now. He didn't have anything. Hopefully Mishka was lying about not having any magic left. Then why would he be scared? He was acting. It was all a set-up. Mishka's plans were always so complicated. He thought that Hansel should hang for what he'd done. He was working with the Alabaster guard this whole time, getting Hansel here, luring him in, making him feel safe. Hansel still kept holding onto him, because he didn't have anything left to hold onto. "The fuck d'you want." His voice came out hoarse. "I'm outside the city. Fuck off." COYOTE “Just came to talk,” Aleks said, blandly. Aleks. Fucking Aleks. Mishka couldn’t breathe. It choked off in this throat. What the fuck? How? Had—the thing with the dragon even really happened, or had that just been Aleks fucking with his head? Had Aleks faked his death, or had someone brought him back? It was official. This was a nightmare. Or— Or. Mishka felt like he was processing things in slow motion, like his mind wouldn’t move as fast as he wanted. Alek’s plans had always been so fucking complicated, and Mishka couldn’t see the full scope of it. “How’s your head holding up?” Aleks asked Hansel. “All better now that I fixed it?” He examined his nails. Mishka shoved himself off of Hansel’s lap and shifted in front of him. Wasn’t sure exactly what he could do, but it didn’t matter. He was pretty sure Aleksei wouldn’t hurt him— But Aleks might hurt Hansel. IZZY Hansel grabbed desperately for Mishka and dragged him back in, making fists in his shirt. That wasn't any fucking better. Mishka wasn't talking -- Hansel didn't like it when Mishka didn't talk. "Fuckin' bad," he said bluntly. "You did a shit job." Then he lowered his voice, and switched to orcish. "S'wrong?" COYOTE "Aleks." IZZY Hansel squinted, lost. He didn't say the obvious -- Aleksei is dead. The dragon ate him. You told me that -- because it was ... obvious. Unless -- Mishka had lied about that, too. COYOTE Mishka managed: "How are you-- when did you-- did you fucking--" Mishka fought Hansel's hold on him a minute and got nowhere. Breathe. Calm down. Okay. Aleksei couldn't have faked his death with the dragon; Mishka had all his memory blockages removed a few weeks ago. He would know by now. So. So, somebody brought Aleksei back. "Who the fuck?" Mishka blurted out. "Zoya," Aleksei said. "Your darling mother misses you, Mishka. But more than that, naturally, she misses darling Asenka, who you brutally murdered--" "Fuck you! Fuck you, you know what happened! The fucking dragon made me kill her." "Right, yes, but Zoya doesn't know that," Aleksei said. "Too bad. No one's told her. Anyhow, Zoya found my body in the desert and brought me back to see if I could help. Tragically, I couldn't. I informed her I didn't know a single thing." IZZY Sometimes, when Hansel was training, he liked to see how fast he could switch from one fighting style to another with the Clockwork Trident. He'd hit the button and toss it into the air as a trident, feign bashing with his shield, catch it as a sword. Then other times, he'd just play around with it. He liked watching it change -- the dwarven mechanisms whirling and spinning, gears biting into each other. He'd always kind of wanted to take it apart and figure it out, but he was afraid he wouldn't be able to put it back together. Then, a few weeks back, he'd taken it to Lyra, and she'd upgraded it for him with some sort of new schematics she'd gotten, and she let him watch her break it down and slot in the new mechanisms. More gears, more belts, more weird machinery. He didn't get it, but it'd been fucking fascinating, watching her finish up and watching the trident pull itself back together. It felt, for a moment, like that was what his mind was doing. Gears spinning. Reforming after it'd been dissected. There was still grit in some of the teeth, but all the pieces were on the workbench. . He kept a tight hold on Mishka. There was a chance this was all fucking faked, some real fuckin' elaborate scam, but he didn't know what the hell the end goal'd be, if it was -- just to put on some weird fucking drama play for Hansel fucking Bell, who was no one. He was willing to bet, now -- instead of on Mishka fucked with my head but it was for my own good, everything was better when I didn't know -- on Mishka is fucking innocent. So he stood up slowly, and he kept an arm locked across Mishka's chest. He wanted to break a branch off the tree they were under to use it as a weapon -- was thinking about awful fucking town kids who'd antagonized him when he was younger. He would forage for anything to defend himself with, 'til his mom told him to just run. Sometimes they're bigger than you. Sometimes you're outnumbered. Sometimes you're stumbling drunk, and drained, and your husband's out of magic. He started slowly backing away, pulling Mishka with him. COYOTE Mishka dug his heels in. "No, no. No no no. Hansel, Hansel--" IZZY Hansel shook his head and kept a close, careful eye on Aleksei, kept backing off, gripping Mishka tighter. "Nah, my love." He stayed in orcish, quiet. "Ain't armed. Alone. Gotta run. Regroup. Gonna be okay. I love you. Gonna be okay." He wasn't able to get out all the words he wanted to -- explain, I get it, I get it, he fucked with my head, of course he fucking did, it's what he does, yeah? Controlling sonofabitch wanted to get at you. I'm sorry. I understand. We're gonna go back, and we'll explain it, and our family's gonna help us, my love, and it'll be okay. We'll take care of it. But not right now, not right this instant. He didn't know what Aleksei could do, apart from the fuckin' obvious. They just needed to get away. There wasn't time. COYOTE Mishka kicked and fought to stay there. He’d spent thirty years wanting to talk to Aleksei again, and he wasn’t going to let this pass him by. “One minute,” he begged Hansel. “One minute, please.” Then Aleksei made a motion, and Mishka flinched, recognizing it and realizing Aleksei was trying to hold one of them. IZZY Hansel stopped, feeling the magic try to grip hold of him. It slipped off, but he froze anyway, trapped between two deep, base urges: To let Mishka go, rip a branch off the closest tree, charge the motherfucker and shank him with something dull -- or to stop fucking around and really just scoop Mishka up and bolt. One boot dragged back, but the other stayed still, the half of his brain that knew it was just giving Aleks another shot screaming at him. COYOTE Hansel didn’t pull him away. Mishka dug his heels in harder, clinging desperately to the moment. “I don’t get it,” Mishka managed. “Why? Why? What did I ever do to you?” “What do you mean, why?” Aleks said. “Don’t play dumb, Mishka, it’s not becoming on you. I saved your life. I dragged you away from your mother. I helped you. I coddled you. You were sensitive. You were young. I sheltered you. And you—” Aleksei motioned. “This is what you’d rather have? A dog with a handful of years left on him, already on his last legs and dying. Not even faithful to you. Fucking that dirty half-elf.” “Fuck you,” Mishka said. “Fuck you! Don’t you fucking dare—say that about—they’re not—” “This is what I’d do for you,” Aleksei called softly. “Mishka, little one, I love you. I love you. You can peck and claw me all you’d like and I’ll still love you. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I was trying to prove a point. This beast of a husband of yours threw you away the instant he thought you stepped out of line. Mishka, I’ll love you no matter what a monster you are. Always.” “Fuck you! You’re fucking insane! You fucked with me! You—” Mishka reached for his rapier so he could draw it, but patted empty air. Aleksei had his fucking weapons. God. Fuck. “You changed things in my head. You cast magic on my husband. You fucked with Goro’s head! You made him think I stabbed Hansel in the back! You made him scared of me again! Fuck you! Fuck you, I’m going to fucking skin you!” “Is that so?” Aleks said. “You’re going to go back to the inn, hm? Run away from me? And you’re going to tell everyone there what happened, and that I’m the big awful bad guy, is that it? And in the morning, your little cleric pal will remove the block in Hansel’s head, and everyone will know you’re innocent, and then you’ll all come and kill me.” IZZY Yeah, no, that was fucking reasonable, actually. Yep. For a bastard and a half, he made a good fucking point there. Hansel started backing off again -- lifting Mishka's feet off the ground since he'd dug his heels in so hard, stumbling a little more -- whispering, "Gonna be okay, ahuvi," again, hastily, "S'okay. I got you. We'll fucking skin him together, my love, but we don't have a fucking knife, okay? Gotta go." COYOTE “Oh, that’s an adorable plan,” Aleksei said. “Adorable. Really. But watch this.” He made the motion again. The hold spell worked this time, and Hansel tensed, groaning, fighting it, almost shaking it off and then failing. Mishka slid out of his arms, grasping at him. No. No. No. Mishka backed away, torn. He kept waiting for Hansel to throw it off, but Hansel didn’t. He couldn’t just run and leave Hansel there, but there was nothing he could fucking do. He was out of magic. No weapons. Nothing. Aleksei stepped closer, boots falling heavily in the grass. He drew Mishka’s knife out of the sheathe. “You don’t get proven innocent, Mishka,” Aleksei said. “You don’t get your happy little fairytale ending. Goro isn’t gonna wake up tomorrow and take the memory spell off Hansel and make everything okay. Because—watch this. I had the most amazing idea." Aleksei moved towards Hansel with the knife. Mishka realized what was about to happen the instant before it did, and he started screaming. He dove forward, trying to grab the knife, but he was too far away. Wasn't fast enough. Aleksei drove Mishka’s knife into Hansel’s eye, angling it up towards the brain, killing him instantly. Hansel’s body crumpled to the ground, Mishka’s knife sticking out of his face. Mishka was howling. He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore. No words would come out. Just screamed, and screamed, and screamed for a healer, and knew no healer was coming, because it was already too late and Hansel was dead and there was no one around to revivify him. Aleksei took a step back, and then he vanished with a loud crack, leaving Mishka alone next to his husband’s corpse. end Category:Text Roleplay